


letter from your secret admirer

by kemia



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sort of Angst? Not really, Utapri Valentines 2018, Valentine's Day, it's just supposed to be cute and supportive dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 05:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kemia/pseuds/kemia
Summary: it was just supposed to be bass lessons, you know? where'd all this sappy shit come from?





	letter from your secret admirer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ittokiotoya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ittokiotoya/gifts).



> hi! this is a gift for tory, who was my secret valentine in the @utaprivalentine event on twitter! ranmaru/otoya was one of his ships, and i like exploring rarepairs - you know, this one's really cute, so i challenged myself a little bit!
> 
> i hope you like it, tory! ♥

Deep, fluid notes floated throughout the studio with an unrivaled finesse that could only be attributed to Ranmaru. A bright-eyed Otoya excitedly watched every movement of his senpai’s fingers, running over the mental and physical notes from their previous lessons in his head until he was convinced that he could definitely do the same.

His gaze would occasionally slip, floating from Ranmaru’s fingers to his content expression - one that Otoya only saw whenever he was in his own element playing the bass. He tried to keep silent, to maintain the tranquil feeling, but Ranmaru pulled his eyes up to face him and his smile immediately dropped.  
  
“Are you paying attention?”  
  
“Oh, uh, yeah! I am! Sorry,” Otoya dismissed with a wave of his hand. “You just always look so happy while you’re playing. I can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking or feeling. It’s gotta be something amazing.”

Ranmaru cocked an eyebrow, very aware of how Otoya was trying to match his passion - it was admirable, and it gave him a feeling of warmth that he couldn’t place, or describe - it made him uncomfortable, and his brain was disgusted by the flood of optimism, but his actions proved otherwise.

‘Here. Try playing on this.”  
  
“You’re - you’re actually letting me practice on _that_ bass?!”

“It’s the best way to feel that passion move through you,” he said matter-of-factly, holding the instrument out in what felt like a peace agreement to Otoya. Carefully, he nodded and took the bass into his hands, holding it as if it were made of glass. Ranmaru tilted his head at Otoya’s nerves - _God,_ he looked like he’d been told to cut the red wire with thirty red wires in front of him. He exhaled in exasperation before moving behind the other man.  
  
“I already taught you this, didn’t I? You have to hold it like _this.”_  
  
With any thought, his arms came around both of Otoya’s sides, placing his hands on top of Otoya’s and moving them into the proper pla -

Well, he was, until his brain went into a panic over the fact that he was pressed flush against Otoya’s back. This - this was way too intimate. _Way_ too intimate. _What the hell am I thinking?_

His body lurched back, and the sudden movement caught Otoya greatly off guard, leaving him clinging for dear life to the bass. The tranquil mood had gone out the window, and Ranmaru was left staring at an unspecified point in the room, trying desperately to tie his thoughts together.

It was all fruitless, though. He didn’t understand _why_ this was happening with _Otoya_ specifically, and even if he did, he didn’t trust the feeling. Not at all. He didn’t like feeling soft or open or _vulnerable_ when he knew that it only meant eventual hurt or sadness or _whatever the fuck._

“... Hey. We’re done for the day.”

“Wait, are you sure, Ranmaru-senpai? We -”

“We’re _done_ for today.”  
  
The statement was more like a _bark,_ and Otoya flinched back slightly. The bass went back to Ranmaru with the same amount of care, but his senpai was through the doors of the studio before he could blink.

Otoya sighed, looking around the now-empty room and running his fingers through his hair, throwing it in all directions. After a few seconds in an absolute daze, he picked up his papers off of a nearby music stand and hugged them against his chest.  
  
“I don’t understand…”

* * *

The absolute _last_ person Ranmaru wanted to talk to about his _feelings_ was _Reiji,_ but no one else in QUARTET NIGHT was qualified to give him any advice, and he’d rather _die_ than let anyone in STARISH find out.

> **[TEXT TO: Reiji.]**
> 
> _Meet me in my dressing room when your set’s done._

It had only taken a split second for the other to churn out a response.

> **[TEXT FROM: Reiji.]**
> 
> _sure ran-ran!! you can have this bento i made for tokki he wont eat it ):_

 Within fifteen minutes, the brunette rushed through the door, breathing as if he’d run a marathon to get there. He greeted Ranmaru, cheery as usual, and said something dumb to follow up as usual. He made himself at home without delay, pulling two Kotobuki bento boxes out of the bag slung over his shoulder. Ranmaru only managed a frustrated sigh and accepted the bento that was slid across the table, because regardless of the older man’s obnoxious behavior, he was a damn good cook.

Reiji slid into the chair opposite Ranmaru, holding chopsticks in one hand and setting his chin into the other. “So, Ran-Ran! Did you want to talk about something? You normally wouldn’t ask me over otherwise.”

Ranmaru hated that he was _that_ transparent. He hated this. This whole situation? It absolutely fucking sucked.

If he didn’t get this off his chest now, though, he’d end up overthinking it to death.

“... I don’t get it. I’m just teaching him bass. I don’t get why him being around all the time has changed my mood this much.”

“Oh, it’s about Otoyan, huh? Well… Hm. Is it a bad change?”  
  
_Ugh._  
  
“... No.”  
  
“So you like when he’s around?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s... I don't know. It's _different_ from how I am with anyone else. Now wipe that smug look off your face.”

As asked, Reiji’s smile morphed from smug to fond as set his chopsticks back down and sighed like an old man preparing to impart his endless wisdom.

“Ran-Ran, that sounds like you have a bit of a crush on Otoyan.”

Ranmaru nearly choked on the rice stuffed in his mouth.

“... A _what?”_

“Hey, hey, don’t make such a scary look! Just think about it a little bit.”

Ranmaru noticed three things after this - his eyebrows were furrowed, his cheeks burned a bit, and, all in all, he was sounding _way_ too defensive. He tried to smooth out his expression, huffily shoving more rice into his face. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t say something like that, you moron.”

Knowingly, Reiji’s lips quirked. He wasn’t going to push it any further, of course, lest he set off a volcanic eruption, but his mind was pretty set. An assistant came hurrying into the room waving a clipboard before he could spew more ‘wisdom’, anyhow.

“Kotobuki-san, we need to retake some of the photos, if that’s alright!”

Reiji shoved his chair back and motioned to be given one second, prompting the assistant to nod and step outside the door. He started to hastily shrug his jacket on, grabbing his bento while his perceptive glare continued to pierce Ran to the core.

“Otoyan’s a good kid - almost _too_ good. I don’t think you should shy away from someone who would make you happy just because you’re scared of a ‘what if’, okay?”

 _God,_ Ran hated Reiji sometimes. He felt that hatred sting wordlessly in the back of his throat as Reiji nonchalantly strolled out of the dressing room, chirping out a cheerful “Let’s go!” before fading into background noise.  
  
Despite that anger, though, Ranmaru only pushed his lunch aside and laid his head into his arms, eyes boring holes into the white of the wall.

… No, he didn’t hate Reiji. He just hated when Reiji was right.

* * *

“Hey, Ranmaru-senpai, don’t you remember what today is?”

Reluctantly, Ranmaru’s two-toned gaze flickered from the strings of his bass to Otoya, whose overwhelmingly enthusiastic smile was putting a vice grip on his - chest? ( _Heart? Mind? Ugh._ )

“... It’s Wednesday,” he replied with the exact opposite tone, before forcing his attention to divert back to tuning. He strummed a little, but his eyes were focused elsewhere, and it was incredibly obvious to him that he wasn’t actually going to be productive like this. He _wanted_ to pay attention to Otoya, but it felt uncomfortable being _this_ engaged.

The redhead crossed his arms, pouting a little. “Well, I mean, you’re right, but there’s something else!”

“... It’s Ren’s birthday, right? Happy birthday to him.”

“Ranmaru-senpai… are you conveniently remembering that just because you’re avoiding the point?”

There was suddenly a rare smirk on Ranmaru’s lips, and he couldn’t hold back the amused grunt he realized he’d been trying to hold back - but before he could put his wall of stoicism back up, Otoya was wearing the fondest expression that threatened to melt stone into a puddle of liquid.

_Dammit, why is he getting to me like this? I can’t even control it…_

Otoya snapped back into reality and got on with his thought, grabbing his bag off of the sofa where he’d thrown it before.

“It’s Valentine’s Day! I know we always get a ton of chocolate from fans, and I _know_ it’s usually girls that are supposed to give the gifts, but, um…”

His hands fidgeted and pulled on the fabric of his bag, unable to grasp the words he wanted for a moment. Ranmaru left behind his hesitation, finally having the gall to set his bass down and give everything to Otoya. The lead-in to this conversation was absolutely nerve-wracking for him ( _not that he’d ever admit that, not in a million years_ ), so he couldn’t imagine what was running through Otoya’s head.

They were both quiet messes - two bundled masses of internal buzzing and screaming.

“... I got you something anyway! And I hope you don’t mind that, it was just on my mind, and… I wanted to thank you for the bass lessons!”

Finally getting his movements together, Otoya reached into his bag and emerged with an ornate red box, shaped like a heart and dressed with lace along the outline of the lid.

Ranmaru looked skeptical, but was surprisingly not revolted by the idea. _Surprisingly. Is it even surprising anymore? Clearly I’m just an idiot in denial._

He held a hand out, which seemed to take Otoya aback somewhat. “Hand it over, then.”

Once the box was in hand, he shook it gently - it’s chocolate. He had no doubt about that from the beginning - that’s the only thing that’s ever in heart-shaped boxes. His face switched from genuinely curious back to dubious in a second, raising his eyebrows at the bright-eyed man in front of him.

“Come on, open it, okay?”

Sighing, he did as he was so-pleasantly asked - inside was definitely chocolates, as expected. He wasn’t really big on chocolate, but -

The more important thing was a small, folded sheet of paper, blocking access to the candies. Ranmaru looked up to a nod of encouragement, and he hesitantly unfolded the paper to reveal a handwritten note.

 

> _Ranmaru-senpai,_
> 
> _You’re probably going to think that me giving you a gift on Valentine’s Day is pretty ridiculous, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. It’s a little difficult for me to put my thoughts into words out loud, so I wanted to write it down._
> 
> _To be honest, I’ve always wanted to get closer to you. I wanted to get to know the real you. You’ve always seemed so closed off to everyone, and I wanted to understand, even if that’s kind of a selfish reason._
> 
> _I was surprised when you agreed to teach me to play bass. I was even more surprised when you kept putting up with me - that’s what convinced me. You’re not cold or mean - you’re lonely. Maybe... You’ve been hurt before. Maybe you needed someone willing to reach a hand out._
> 
> _I was able to tell because I’m the same way. I’ve lost a lot of things, too. So, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I just want you to know that, no matter what, you can hold onto my hand._
> 
> _Enjoy the chocolate (if you decide to eat it!)_
> 
> _Otoya_

The room is eerily quiet in the following moments, the lack of sound ringing in both of their ears. Ranmaru stared down at the piece of paper, unmoving, unblinking, skimming over the words again and again.

He felt adrenaline pumping in his chest - maybe it was fight or flight. He had no idea. He _couldn’t_ figure it out, and he looked up to Otoya again, eyes searching for an answer -

\- and he was still smiling at him, holding out his empty hand.

“So, what do you think?”

_I... don’t know._

He… didn’t _know,_ but in the end, Ranmaru was instinctual, simplistic. Once again, he did know three things: he knew that his heart was beating faster, he knew that he was happy in the weirdest way, and he knew that he wanted to grab the hand in front of him. That apprehension that always burned his fingertips when he played bass, that always burned the hands he held - he just didn’t seem to care.

Still, he didn’t reach out. Instead, he reached inside the box of candies and plucked a round one drizzled with white chocolate, placing it into Otoya’s palm. The other man looked bewildered, looking back and forth between the sweet and his senpai, and Ranmaru was smirking again. No, he was _smiling_ , and it was natural and befitting him.

“I don’t like those ones. You eat it.”

Otoya beamed like the sun.

“Okay!”  
  
But as he raised his arm to pop the chocolate into his mouth, Ranmaru set the box aside and latched onto Otoya’s forearm, making him yelp. _When is he ever this touchy? Doesn’t he hate being touched? What about last time? What about -_

“... Thanks, Otoya. I’ll remember this.”  
  
Relieved of his fears, the fond glimmer returned to the redhead’s eyes. “Of course. You know, just because we aren’t groupmates doesn’t mean I don’t love you just as much.”  
  
Ranmaru’s face was burning again, and he, instinctive as he was, removed his hold on Otoya in favor of smacking him in the arm. All Otoya could do was laugh in return and throw the candy into his mouth to avoid dropping it.

“Don’t say that so casually, you idiot. Can’t you talk more quietly?”


End file.
